Civil Disobediance
by Zandra's Ashes
Summary: Post Hot Zone. John faces Elizabeth's anger, and they finally put an end to the betting pool and the "Watcher's" who stalk their quearters every night trying to collect on their bet's.


I know there are probably too many post- Hot Zone fic's out there, but oh well, here is my take anyway.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't make any money from my "borrowing" of these beloved characters.

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John had grown tired of looking for Elizabeth and was walking back from the last place he could think to check, the southwest pier. McKay and Beckett had interrupted any chance he had of explaining to Elizabeth why he commanded Bates to open to doors and break quarantine. If he was honest with himself, he'd been relieved to duck out of the conversation just as he was slightly relieved she had eluded him tonight. He wasn't sure he was ready to explain his actions, his desperate need to ensure Peterson never made it to the control tower. He could hardly admit to himself his desire to protect Elizabeth went far and above the normal call of duty.

But still, even knowing she was angry and knowing he wasn't ready to make her understand his reasoning; his body craved the nearness of her own. To see her chest rising up and down, a chance to brush his fingers across her arm, to feel her skin warm and soft. He could endure whatever she felt necessary to punish him. At the end of the day, if he were to find any rest in the darkness of night he had to have that confirmation.

His footsteps stalled when he heard a sound behind him. He backed up peering into the blackened room to his right. His ears perked, that was definitely a clinking sound. Familiar somehow. He raised a small flashlight and eased his way into an empty Ancient lab. Deeper and deeper he forced his footsteps to move slowly and softly, pulling his weapon out of the holster just in case a stray troublesome Wraith had managed to infiltrate the city. He heard the noise again, stirring familiarity somehow. He was strangely becoming thirsty. Turning towards the sound, he spotted moonlight streaming through large windows to his right. Doors, he realized. This room had a balcony.

He stashed the flashlight in his pocket and headed for the doors, still somewhat warily holding his handgun. The balcony appeared empty; he grudgingly lowered his weapon and gazed upon the scene before him. The moonlight danced upon the rippling ocean waters, the sound of the water gently whipping against Atlantis' piers danced upon his ears. This was even nicer than the southwest pier, he thought. Elizabeth would love it here.

Clink. John spun around, pulling his gun up eye level as he did so. His eyes met Elizabeth's peering at his own over the bottle of beer she was drinking from. She made no effort to hasten her movements. She slowly finished her sip and lowered the bottle to the floor of the balcony. It landed with a clink.

She was wearing a white shirt with a plunging neckline that tied around the side. A short wispy black skirt tucked between her propped up knees, her back resting against the wall. A half empty six pack of beer next to her bare feet. Her black high heel shoes lay haphazardly in a heap to her to her side. She looked like she was on her way to or from a date John realized. No wonder he hadn't found her earlier. His heart weighed strangely heavier than before.

Clink. The bottle sounded as she nicked it against the floor while pulling it back to her lips to consume another long slow sip. She never moved her eyes from his own. If anything her stare seemed to intensify, even when wayward tendrils of her hair were swept onto her face from the gentle breeze. Clink. She had lowered the bottle down again.

John realized he was still holding his gun in a quite threatening manner and quickly tucked it back into the holster. She hadn't even flinched when he turned holding the gun. Not good. Clink, the bottle moved up again. John hadn't been wrong in his relief earlier when they'd been interrupted. He may have struggled with words then, but they were downright failing him now.

John steeled himself for rejection as he moved towards her. Strangely, she didn't protest when he sat next to her, nestling his back into the wall beside her. She didn't object when he snatched the beer she was setting down and drew a long satisfying drink. The cold beer trickled down his throat. A few more of these, he might find the courage to tell her what weighed so heavily upon his heart. Maybe.

He could feel her body almost rigid beside his, feel the heat in her fingers as they brushed against his own as they continued to pass the beer back and forth. Clink, she deposited the empty bottle back in the cardboard holder and pulled a fresh beer out. She almost viciously wrenched the top off with the bottle opener, almost smiled when the lid spiraled back towards him. He could see two more beers in the container, but after taking a sip she passed the fresh bottle towards him and they continued to pass it back and forth.

They drank in silence and when John polished off this beer he swiveled towards Elizabeth as he pulled the next beer from the container and popped the top. He offered her the first sip. Again her eyes bored into to his own, never leaving them as she sipped from the bottle.

She took a second sip before passing him the bottle. He remained sitting facing her side; her head was slanting sideways looking at him as she continued to rest against the wall.

"Elizabeth, you understand why I…" He faltered. Not enough beer yet. He glanced at the depleting six pack. Not enough beer.

"I'm off duty Colonel. I'm not interested in playing this game tonight. Why don't we just skip the part where you justify your reasons for protecting me and I'll pretend I'm only angry because you disobeyed an order." Elizabeth snatched the beer back from him.

John's head started to throb. What did she mean pretend she was _only _angry, why else was she this…unsettled? He was looking, trying to see things in her that weren't there. And if they were, they would be things they wouldn't be allowed to indulge in. He pulled the beer back.

"This is my favorite beer" He grimaced as the words escaped. It wasn't the time for small talk, but functioning on auto-pilot, he instinctively looked to move the conversation back to safer ground. He took a long sip.

"I know. I was saving it for your birthday." She pulled the beer back.

"It's not my birthday."

She arched an eyebrow as she polished off the bottle. Right, he realized. She was angry, pissed enough to drink his birthday present. He watched as she pulled the bottle back from her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, capturing an escaping droplet of the beer escaping down her bottom lip. He bit down on his bottom lip fiercely, but not before his sudden intake of air emerged louder than the waves lapping against the pier.

Looking pleased with herself, Elizabeth allowed her tongue to wander slowly across her bottom lip. He watched her almost mesmerized as she moved to a kneeling position, her hair brushing across his face. He drew in a deep breath of the scent of her hair, aware his body was almost sizzling from her proximity. She opened the last beer and stood up just inches before him. The curves of her chest pressing against his own for the briefest of moments before she was on her bare feet, pattering gracefully towards the rail of the balcony. She leaned down on her elbows looking out over the water, the beer clutched tightly in her hand. One of her bare feet tucked behind her, hooking onto the calf muscle of her other leg.

As John stood to his feet, she began to sway gently and he forced himself to turn his back to her. Every part of his body seemed to be on full alert, except his mind and the slightest attempt at rational thinking pained his head. He only knew he couldn't continue to watch her, couldn't wrap his mind around this challenge she was presenting him. He was much more adept at dealing with Elizabeth's anger when it was cool and remote. Professional anger. The polished civil coolness she had mastered so skillfully,_ that_ he was equipped to handle. This woman he'd discovered tonight was simmering in a much more sensual manner. He replayed her words again in his mind, and it finally sunk through his thick skull. She _knew, _he realized. She knew he cared about her, a lot more than he was supposed to.

His hand snaked up, threading through his spiking hair. His hands fell to his hips and he stalled, at a loss again for words. She'd already told him, she was tired of pretending. There was no way in hell he would even dare to put the truth into words.

"Colonel?" Elizabeth's voice was deeper when she was angry.

Deeper in a bad way for John as it always seemed to lead to him imagining her in his bed. And smiling at Elizabeth when she was angry had rarely worked in his favor. He knew he should just leave. Every second he could smell her and hear her, his body threatened to overtake control of his actions. His breath caught as he spied her when he turned.

She was facing him now with her elbows propped behind her on the rail. Her body still seemed to radiate from the fury she held within. With every rise and fall of her chest, he'd swear he could feel waves of heat washing over him. When he steeled himself enough to meet her eyes, he spotted a flash of disappointment. She knew he was going to feign ignorance, pretend he didn't understand her challenge. But the flicker faded again and he was left staring into two emerald pools boiling with an emotion he didn't recognize.

With his heart pounding in his ears he finally managed to speak. "Maybe I should get going."

She pushed her heel backward into the pier, pushing her body away from the rail. She drew a leisurely sip from the bottle of beer as she ambled closer to John, her eyes never wavering from his own. She passed him the beer as she stopped before him. He had just begun to sip from the bottle when she spoke. "I suppose I could always try ordering you to leave."

He choked down the beer, coughing in what he could only assume was a most unattractive manner. He'd been so focused on himself, on his reaction to her; he'd forgotten to ask why she was really angry. He stumbled backwards clumsily as he tried to collect himself.

He tried to catch his breath as she stalked forward. He found himself retreating backwards even further as she advanced, her eyes burning into his. "I had the opportunity to keep _you_ safe. Atlantis was at risk, but you were safe and for once it was something _I _could ensure, something _ I_ could control. You can be so damn selfish in your selflessness. Don't you realize what you do to me when throw yourself headfirst into every whirlwind of trouble we encounter?"

The backs of John's knees struck a chair behind him during his retreat. He sank into it with a thud, grateful for the support. The world around him had begun to spin as he digested her words. He slumped over resting his forehead in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He stared down towards his boots half in shock, half in shame.

He may have been selfish. But he'd never realized he had people who cared that much, that _she _cared. He felt her fingers weaving their way through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He pressed his eyes closed and found his hands instinctively reaching out and up. His fingers grasped her hips, pulling her closer. Her stomach pressed against his forehead as he clung tighter. She didn't want to pretend he repeated over and over in his mind.

He finally mustered the courage pull his eyes from the floor to meet hers. He knew he would be unable to conceal anything from her tonight. It was like she'd just torn a bandage from a wound and he felt raw and exposed under her scrutiny. Though her eyes still held their consuming gaze, he felt his nerves firing up one explosive sensation at a time as he recognized she shared his desire, the urgent need to touch, to feel, to recognize the feelings they'd been trying to bury deep inside.

Her lips parted slightly as she tilted her head down towards him. He reached up to her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as his fingers extended across her face reaching into her hair. His other hand edged up under her shirt at the small of her back. Elizabeth gingerly lowered herself lower to her knees before him, their foreheads touching, her mouth, just a tantalizing breath away from his own.

He forced his fingers up, allowing them only the comfort of lacing through her chaotic curls. She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. He knew she was well aware he was uncomfortable showing emotion, had experienced firsthand how he instinctively resisted accepting physical shows of affection. But then she shifted, brushing her check against his as her arms wove around grasping at his neck and the other pulling his head fiercely against her own.

He was painfully aware of her breath against his ear. He struggled to resist his fingers attempts to move down her body, understanding finally though his advances wouldn't be rebuffed. But he couldn't.

"Elizabeth, we can't-"He hated himself for even saying it.

"We can't or we shouldn't?" Her breath was hot against his ear. "We can do whatever we want John. Actually, you would have made me look like less of a fool today if they knew we were together. We both know what everybody already thinks, I'm sure you're aware of the watch they keep on our separate quarters at night. They are all trying to win the betting pool."

John pulled her head back so he could see her eyes. He was not aware the crew was keeping tabs on such things. "A betting pool for what?"

"For us. They are waiting to bust one of us leaving the other's quarters late at night." Elizabeth's eyes were twinkling now. Confident…and happy?

"And you know this because?"

"I don't sleep well. Someone has managed to do a great job of giving me countless scenarios for nightmares which consume much of the time I spend trying to sleep. I usually end up going to the mess hall for some coffee. I've run into the "watchers", as I've dubbed them, enough to spot them a mile away."

John fought for focus as Elizabeth pressed back against his check, her breath again teasing the nerves around his ears and neck.

"John?"

He drew a deep breath in as the scent of her hair danced upon his nose. Her curls were starting to tickle his face but he could care less. His fingers dropped onto her neck kneading the coils of tension.

"John?" She asked again.

"Hmm…" He was still fighting to focus and his hands were drifting farther and farther down her back.

"I gave Cadman money to bet on tonight."

He pulled back and sucked in his breath when he saw her face. She had pressed her teeth against her lower lip and her eyes were half shut, smoldering now not angrily, but expectantly. His hands had reached her lower back and he now grasped her hips, pulling her up from the ground and across his bent legs onto his lap. Her head tucked and their noses brushed as each of them seemed to still feel the need to fight, to resist the urge to cross that final line. He felt her nose brush his check as she tucked her head again and then the flicker of her tongue against his lips.

He didn't even try to resist the urge to pull her closer, his arms slammed around her waist pulling her flush against him as her teeth began to nip at his lower lip. The sound of his soft growl was encompassed as her mouth pressed against his own, one of his hands threading beneath the waist of her shirt up her back and into her hair. He pushed into her kiss and somehow hauled his body into a standing position bringing Elizabeth along with him. One of her legs tucked around his waist, teasing him mercilessly from the pressure of their lower bodies forced together, while the other stretched out to the floor.

"John?" She gasped, probably wondering if he was again trying to push her away.

He clamped down on her mouth, claiming what he had so long denied and trying to assure her for once he had no intentions of running away. He wove a hand back into her hair and grasped the back of her thigh with the other, pulling her firmly against him.

He slackened his grip on her, allowing her other leg back to the floor. With a willpower he didn't know he possessed, he pulled his lips away from her.

"John?" Elizabeth asked again.

He delighted in the dazed, wanton look in her eyes. An unsatisfied look he was for once more than happy to be the recipient of. "We wouldn't want you to lose the bet now would we?"

He grasped her hand and began tugging them out of the lab.

"John? I have more beer in my quarters." Elizabeth whispered huskily as they started down the hallway.

John reversed their footsteps and began heading for the other transport. The door to the transport closed and his eyes fell upon the scant piece of bare skin between Elizabeth's shirt and her skirt. His eyelids felt heavy as his hands fell to her waist, his thumbs skimming her soft pale skin. "I don't deserve you."

She fiercely yanked his chin forcing his eyes back to her own. "If you are joking because of the beer, then no you don't. But otherwise John…"

She traced a finger down his check, down his neck and across his chest. It landed directly above his heart.

"Otherwise?" He whispered.

"Otherwise, I never want to hear you doubt yourself again. You deserve…you deserve so much..." Her voice was faltering in a way he'd never heard before.

It was his turn to pull her eyes back to his. They were brimming with tears.

"Oh no you don't. " The transport doors whooshed open. "We'll never win the bet if they think I've made you cry Lizabeth."

They turned to see the corridor still strangely bustling with activity. "Watchers?" John asked.

Elizabeth nodded somewhat numbly.

"Hey, come back to me Lizabeth. We have a bet to win, we can't let Cadman down." He challenged more upset than he wanted her to know by her sudden change of demeanor. This would take some time to get used to he realized. He was used to professional Elizabeth, pissed off coolly professional Elizabeth, flirtatious still professional Elizabeth, not the woman he lo-, err, cared about feeling emotions they weren't allowed to. Supposed to.

Elizabeth still stood frozen outside the transport doors, reminding him uncomfortably of the day of the siege, after he'd shot Koyla.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No."

"You will be. Come on."

She looked at him bewildered and he cursed himself silently. Great Sheppard, give her a flashback to one of her worst moments in life, that's how you seal the deal.

He grasped her hand just like he did that day and tugged her into motion. "I thought he had killed you that day, thought you were dead. I killed so many. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. That's when I knew. And when I took your hand then, like I did now, I didn't think I could ever let go. I've been trying to forget that feeling ever since."

She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the corridor. She brought one hand to his check, then the other. He could see the tears brimming in her eyes again when her nose brushed against his. Then, right in the middle of the corridor while they were surrounded by watchers, she pulled his lips to hers. The nerves in his lips ignited, sending bursts of rippling waves of heat and pleasure coursing down his body as he succumbed to her. His hands grasped at her waist pulling her dangerously close against him. His tongue pushed into the wet moist heat of her mouth and he groaned into their kiss, already imagining pressing into another intoxicating part of her body.

"Get a room!" Cadman's familiar voice burst through his thoughts. "All right flyboy, pay up!"

John pulled away grudgingly from Elizabeth and as they turned their eyes away from each other and down the hall they spotted Cadman with her hand out towards Lorne.

"Major?" John tried not to hiss.

"Err, just leaving sir." Lorne said as he grasped Cadman's hand and tugged her further down the corridor.

Elizabeth waved and opened the door to her quarters; John noted happily she seemed to be fighting to suppress her laughter now. Her eyes seemed illuminated with life again when she turned towards him, pulling him firmly inside.


End file.
